The Midnight Sex Case

She showed up in my office a few minutes late for the morning appointment wearing quirky velvet gloves, Italian pumps and a designer black lace cocktail dress so meagre I wondered how she passed through reception.

We were meeting for the first time. This appointment was a free consultation to see if she wanted to hire me and if I wanted to accept her as a client.

Instead of sitting, she strode to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that surrounded the outer corner of my office and stared down the forty-two stories toward the street below. She seemed to be checking on something, how edgy the height made her maybe. This afforded me a generous view of her. I saw a woman of captivating, statuesque beauty, erotic, pale as cream, long auburn hair sumptuous as mink. She posed to display these graces disturbingly well. She knew what she was doing, that part I understood right away.

I found myself unable to avert my gaze as she left the windows and extended her hand in greeting. Standing this close, I could smell a distinctive perfume with traces of fine incense, honey and something else, familiar but hauntingly obscure.

"Mr. Witnauer?"

"Good morning, you are Ms. Alpanu?"

She nodded.

"Welcome. Will you please have a seat?"

She sat, crossing her legs. This had the effect of hiking the dress up to a dangerous point. I resumed my place more safely behind my desk and made an effort to look directly at her unusual, olive green eyes.

"What can Strong, Witnauer and Hill do for you, Ms. Alpanu?"

"I am coming to you with a breach of contract matter, Mr. Witnauer. I understand you are a contract specialist. I have also been told you are an ace in court."

"Contracts are a significant part of my practice."

"I have a challenge for you."

I smiled indulgently. "You have a contract you want to enforce?"

"Yes."

"Alright, what kind is it?"

"A contract for sex."

"Uhmm, sorry?"

"A sex contract."

"You mean an agreement for full disclosure before having sex?"

"No, I want to sue a man who broke the long-term contract he willingly signed to please me erotically whenever and however I want." She said all this as if she was talking pleasantly about the weather.

"Someone signed a contract to have ongoing sex with you?"

"Yes. "

"Are we talking about your husband?"

"I do not require one of those, Mr. Witnauer."

"So this is not a divorce context?"

"This is just sex."

"You mean an affair?"

"Well, there is no romance. He just fucks me and answers to all my erotic needs, pure and simple. To increase our arousal, we put it all in a contract."

She said the word fucks with surprising refinement.

"Hmmm. You like this arrangement?"

"Absolutely, I am continually in ecstasy."

"So why do you want to sue him?"

"He is not fulfilling the contract."

"Which part?"

She sighed. "One very important clause in particular...If you are going to be my lawyer, I suppose I had better be open."

"Openness does help."

"This is extremely important for me, Mr. Witnauer." She rose, walking over to the windows again. Once there, she placed a hand on the glass, bending to look down toward the street the way she had before. The hem of her dress drifted high enough that only a tantalising bit of mystery remained. I could see her otherwise quite nude bottom, milky as sin, the shape perfect enough to still my breath. I reflected with a stirring feeling that she probably meant to offer me this delectable sight.

"He is down there waiting. I can see him from here. He follows me everywhere, like a dog or a slave and I adore him for it. But there is one thing he will not do. That is why I have to sue him."

Thankfully for the sake of my concentration, she straightened her dress and returned to her chair. "He will not indulge in my busturariae fantasy. I would say that is the truly awful, unacceptable breach. I cannot tolerate it."

"Sorry, I am not certain I caught that term...your what fantasy?"

She stared at me with appraisal, managing to do even this sensually. "I said my busturariae fantasy. I refer, Mr. Witnauer, to a particular sort of sexual act. It is all in the contract. I suppose you will have some research to do."

"If I take this case, I guess so."

"But you must. It is all going to be so perfectly delicious. We really could not abide any delay."

"We? You mean this lover of yours already knows you are going to sue him?"

She shrugged. "I imagine he is getting just as excited about it as I am."

"Ms. Alpanu do I have this right? You are proposing to hire me to sue a man primarily to turn both of you on?"

"Exactly, but you do not seem taken by the idea, Mr. Witnauer."

"The law is not a sex toy, Ms. Alpanu."

"Oh, but why not? I get so incredibly aroused during discoveries and cross examination. So does my lover."

"Are you joking?"

"I have been in two already, just financial matters. I loved them. The control, the exposure of the truth...and this time it would be about all the gorgeous sex the two of us have been having and must have in the future. I have been excited for days just anticipating the possibility. Forcing him through the law to do what we agreed, I think that is just beautiful."

"You are choosing a rather unusual form of exhibitionism, if you do not mind me saying so. "

"I do not mind. That is part of the point, Mr. Witnauer"

"Look, this will be expensive. There are much cheaper ways to get a kick."

"I have no inhibitions about cost. I will double your usual retainer."

Unintentionally, I laughed. "The firm has a reputation. I have a reputation. A doubled retainer will not make up for that kind of loss. To be perfectly frank, none of this sounds even slightly enforceable. It could make a mockery of justice."

"So you do not want to be a groundbreaker? There may be other benefits."

"For example?"

"Me. You never know, with all the intensity, the preparation..."

"Uhuh, sounds like an excellent way to get disbarred. They say never get involved with a client. I now have an even better rule - never get involved with a client, even an unarguably stunning one, who wants to put you on retainer to sue a guy for the breach of a sexual contract as part of an ongoing erotic act."

"I was told you were courageous, non-judgmental, and definitely open to sex with clients."

"Who could possibly have told you that?"

"My aunt is a client. She claims you fucked her like a god on several occasions."

I squinted. "Who is your aunt?"

"Dame Mona Alighieri-Simms."

"Ah."

"No need to explain. I know she is irresistible."

I cleared my throat. "No wonder you're not worried about cost. Did you say a god?"

She smiled. "I did, yes."

"She said that? You're not just buttering me?"

"Not a chance."

"Well...but look, Ms. Alpanu, I still can't take this case. It is just too bizarre. I am a fairly conservative practitioner, not some sort of kinky legal hippie."

She stared at me long and hard. I was unsure what would come out of her next. Unexpectedly, she just shrugged her exquisite shoulders and rose. "I give in. I would not have tried if I had not been told that you were the only man in the city who could take on Sophia Finch toe to toe."

"Finch? Wait a minute, what does this have to do with her?"

"The man I wish to sue has already retained her. I think he hired her to sue me for breach too. We like to reciprocate as much as possible."

"Sophia Finch, really?"

"He got her to work for him, just like that. I'll tell you something else. They screwed like rabbits at the first interview. She gave him an exquisite blowjob apparently. So, you and I have fallen a bit short, I would say."

"Too bad you do not wish to take on the case. My bet would have been on you. What a fight it would have been, the two best in the city, so enticing it is nearly unimaginable. Well, thank you for your time."

This cracked me. My ego could not resist, no matter how much trouble I was getting into. I could not refuse another chance to crush Sophia Finch, no matter what the case was. "Look, just wait. I..."

"Yes, Mr. Witnauer?"

"If Finch is truly involved, I'll consider a retainer. You will have to give me a copy of the contract, of course. We can set up another interview. I'm not saying anything absolute here."

"Perfect. I will triple the retainer if you want more convincing. So, you want me now or later?"

"Want you?"

"I expect to keep up with the other side, Mr. Witnauer, even press ahead. To be honest, you appear fairly prepared right now." She smiled.

So much for glass top desks, she had a fair view of me standing as she was. I was in no position to deny that I presently sported a very obvious physical response to her. "I have another appointment in five minutes."

"Well then, I suppose later it is."

I shrugged without commitment. "You will be paying for legal services, Ms. Alpanu. That is what I intend to deliver. I hope you don't mind if I am unable to see you out?"

"Not at all, Mr. Witnauer, I understand perfectly."

The rest of the morning was fairly much ruined. I blundered through my next appointment. I was so distracted I chose to cancel my last meeting before noon.

At lunch, which I took early and alone at my favourite little bistro, I could not get my mind off this implausible interview. I took out my blackberry, cycled through the address function and dialled an old friend.

My call was answered by a receptionist: "Good afternoon, you have reached the office of Dr. Kirby Emanuel."

"Oh, hi, is Kirby...Dr. Emanuel available?"

"She is presently in a session, sir."

"Yeah? Does she have a bit of spare time this afternoon?"

"Well, you may be in luck. There was a cancellation of her two o'clock."

"Oh, you mean an appointment?"

"I do mean that, yes."

"Well, why not? I'll take it, name's Tom Witnauer."

"Alright, thank you, Mr. Witnauer, we will see you shortly."

When I showed up at Kirby's office in a funky old building three blocks from my own, I did not have to wait long. The receptionist, who looked like her voice, very coy and willowy, led me straight in. Kirby was sitting in a massive armchair aligned by a couch near a tall set of windows. As usual, I felt a pang of regret seeing her. She was unquestionably the wisest woman I ever met, not that I neglected the fact that she was also the most beautiful, with a memorable glow to her honey-caramel skin and deep-brown eyes. We had known each other for more years than I could remember. I trusted her completely.

She sat as I remembered back in university, with her ankles tucked under one thigh. She was writing some notes and looked up.

"Tom, so it is you. I wondered."

"Sure is. Nice office."

"What are you doing scheduling an appointment with me? Don't think for a second that I am going to accept you as a client."

"Why?"

"Because we are old friends and it is no secret that I have been dying to get it on with you since we met. Talk about a conflict of interest."

I laughed, sitting on the couch. "Great to see you again...by the way, why didn't we?"

She shrugged comfortably. "I think it was your fault for not asking enough."

"I did ask."

"Not enough. You have to work for these things to make them special. So, what is this about?"

"I need to talk to you in a sort of a consulting capacity, or maybe just friendly advice."

"We'll see. Tell me what's on your mind."

"You are an expert in treating sexual deviancy right?"

She shrugged. "We do not use terms like that much anymore, but yes."

"I have this prospective client..." I gave her the run down.

She smiled when I was done. "Not exactly an ordinary day at the office for you."

"Definitely not, it was outright strange. So, what is a busturariae fantasy? Did I say that right?"

"Close enough. The exact pronunciation is obscure, given that it is ancient Latin. The busturariae were a form of prostitute in ancient Rome."

"So she is fantasizing about being some kind of old fashioned prostitute?"

"Well, there is a bit more than that. They were a special type, not for everyone. The busturariae were a sect that doubled as professional mourners, an important profession back then. They had sex with their clients on graves and gravestones. Their office, so to speak, was the cemetery."

"No kidding?"

"Hard to be sure of the exact views of the sect, but it is thought they maintained the link between sex and death. Maybe that is what citizens did with their grief for a lost lover. Who knows? The ancient Romans could be a fairly kinky bunch at times."

"I have to say, that is a bit creepy."

"For you, yes, I suspect it is. I hear much odder stuff several times a week, believe me."

"So, what does all this mean, Kirby?"

"Sounds to me like you probably have a couple of sex addicts who have begun to lose their sense of having any social constraint, and they are wealthy enough to hire you and your main rival to play their game with them."

"I guess."

"That is not typically a good sign, losing a sense of social constraint. Usually this sort of behaviour is a prelude to really big trouble. There are other possibilities of course. I would have to meet with them to be sure."

"You think I should stay away from this one? I have to say, it would be really tough to back away from Sophia Finch."

"I can't tell you what to do, Tom. The experience could be positive or negative depending on how you manage it and what decisions you make. Most situations are like that. You make up your own mind. Just be careful, because you could get in over your head very easily. If you do take it on, check in with me once in a while, ok? I am asking you as a friend."

I took note. Kirby was never one to worry. "Sure, ok," I replied. "I'll be in touch. Thanks for the help."

* * *

The following day, I received the contract. It came delivered in an unusual envelop, oddly scented, as Ms. Alpanu herself had been, and made of a very rare, expensive type of handmade Italian paper from the Amalfi region. I recognized it since I am an aficionado of fine paper. With interest, I pulled out the contract, written on deckled paper of the same origin. It looked fairly old and, as a first impression, it was much larger than I anticipated. Hefty, is the best way to describe it.

I flipped through. The style was amateur but clear. There seemed to be more sexual variations and requirements in it than the Bible. I realized I would need research assistance. Of course, help would be a bit dicey in these circumstances.

I hit my intercom button.

My assistant answered. "Yes, Tom?"

"Deborah, I need young George Bertram, and what is that other new associate's name, Duch...something?"

"Natalie Duchamp?"

"Right, thanks, I need them both, high priority."

"Sure, I'll get them for you."

Not five minutes later they filed in as associates always do with a mix of nervousness and eagerness to please. They sat as usual in front of my desk, notebooks out and pens poised. George was a confident young man, tall and good looking enough to keep him away from the new client. Natalie was...well, a bit plainer than she could have been. She pulled her midnight black hair back tight in a bun usually, making her look severe. She was skinny or lithe, hard to tell hidden by her 40-something clothes, very pale, with small breasts. In the right circumstances and a much less dowdy outfit, she could be counted as a beautiful woman, once she grew up. They were both young and fresh looking, I felt a bit uncomfortable exposing them to this file, even though I knew they both had to be in their early or mid-twenties.

They were a bit perplexed with my hesitation. Usually, I threw instructions at associates and junior partners without mercy.

"Alright, I have this file and it is an odd one. "

They both glanced curiously.

I cleared my throat. "I mean very odd. Have either of you ever done any work on the sexual side, you know, allegations of affairs in divorce proceedings, harassment issues, those sorts of things?"

Natalie smiled eagerly and nodded. "I did some pro bono work for a woman's shelter for a few years in law school, mostly helping to get injunctions to keep the deadbeat husbands away. There were lots of sexual abuse issues there."

"Ok, that is sort of a start. This is not a sex abuse case. It is a sex case, a breach of long term sexual contract case. There is an alleged lack of performance."

Both of them stared. George broke the silence. "Uh, I have never heard of this type of case, Mr. Witnauer."

"That is no surprise, George. I haven't either until yesterday. This is new, so new I am going to be asking you both to do some digging around to determine the legal feasibility of taking this on. The client is very wealthy, so getting experts will not be an issue. Oh, and Sophia Finch is on the other side. It goes without saying that we will do anything within our power to prevail against her team, understood?"

"Understood." They said it in unison. No one who worked in the firm was ignorant of my hatred for Finch.

"I want you to go through this contract, bizarre as it may be. I want you to understand what is in it and what is enforceable as a matter of law, or prospective law. Just understanding it may be tricky. There are references in here that seem to be historical, or ritual, or maybe just kink lingo, I wouldn't know, but I'll expect you to know in fairly short order. Are you both comfortable with this? Be frank."

"Alright then, the client is supposed to come in tomorrow for a second interview. I am in Court. Natalie, I think it had better be you to take that meeting for me. Use the time with her to understand anything in the contract you are unable to hunt down through research."

With that, I sent them on their way.

* * *

Only after I had finished up in court the next day did it hit me how reckless I had been leaving young Natalie on her own with an exotic nymphomaniac I had only met once. I reasoned that the kid was a full grown, licensed attorney. Still, I quickened my step back to the office. As soon as I got there, I called both associates in.

When they entered, I knew my concerns were grounded. George sauntered in juggling a stack of notes and precedence. Everything was normal there. However, Natalie had transformed. There was no significant change in her clothing, though she looked slightly more dishevelled and her dowdy stockings were missing, revealing quite appetizing, even gorgeously muscled calves, so it was lithe and not skinny. Somehow, in spite of her retaining this depressing wardrobe, the drab librarian look had been cast aside. You didn't need the amatory prowess of Casanova to see it. It was apparent in how she carried herself now and how she moved. There was inexorable proof of a deeply satisfied woman, a woman who had slaked all cravings of the moment with great sex. Her eyes were still full of a smoky pleasure. Bedroom eyes, no question.

"So where are we on the Alpanu case?" I asked them, feeling a bit guilty.

"I guess it will be no surprise that there is no useful jurisprudence directly on this," George offered. "Found a few things that might help peripherally. You want to hear them now?"

"Maybe do a memo for the file, thanks George. Natalie?"

"Yes, Mr. Witnauer?"

"Do you understand more about the contract? Is the research going alright?"